The A1A Soirée (that’s “Swore-A”)
Part of the Whiskey, Wine & Wildlife weekend to benefit Vilano Beach — just north of St. Augustine — this two-day affair included admission to the Alligator Farm and a “Grand Tasting” dinner. Tickets were $109 per person, and worth every sip.
We lucked into a rare Friday/Saturday off that lined up perfectly with the event. So we packed the van, drove a quick hour and a half north, and kicked things off at Fort Mose (pronounced “Mose-A”) State Park. After a microwave-warmed picnic (culinary excellence on wheels), we learned about the fort’s history as the first free Black settlement in what’s now the U.S. Freed enslaved people earned liberty here by joining the militia and converting to Catholicism under Spanish rule. One standout story: John Menendez, a man who managed to win and lose his freedom several times yet kept fighting fiercely.
The museum film dropped this gem: “The first Africans to come to America were not slaves, and the first slaves in America were not African.” They didn’t say who those first slaves were, so we’re still wondering. After exploring the replica fort and marsh trails (both beautiful), we headed to Winn-Dixie for supplies — a mandatory Florida ritual — and then on to Porpoise Point Beach, where you can actually drive on the sand. There was a sketchy moment (Matt’s word) with some soft sand, but the all-wheel drive prevailed. We spotted actual porpoises near the jetty and enjoyed a perfect walk, punctuated by watching someone else ignore all the “4WD only” signs and get stuck.
A bittersweet note: the Magic Beach Motel, a retro gem from a past trip, has closed and been sold to developers. The neon rabbits and flamingos are reportedly being saved, but the place is fenced off and the pool’s filled in. We’d hoped to find the cafe next door run by the award-winning food-truck chef we once met, but no one seemed to remember her name or her food. A culinary mystery for the ages.
Shopping Emergency: Just before the Soirée, we realized a vital bag — makeup and jewelry — was missing. Not a ploy for new accessories (promise). Thankfully, Victoria at Metal Artz came to the rescue with a sand-from-Vilano-Beach jewelry set and a clever cross-body bag that won instant approval.
Pre-Party & Parking: With an hour to spare before sunset, we enjoyed a drink and live music at the pier bar, then found a semi-legal parking spot in a half-finished development. Perfectly inconspicuous.
The Soirée Itself:
Check-in came with wristbands and souvenir glasses — always a good sign. We grazed through a maze of food trucks and booths offering samples of everything from craft cocktails to an unforgettable Oyster Brûlée and fish empanada by Pesca (10/10, would chase again). We met locals and even the chef from Pesca’s rooftop restaurant — a charmer with the best ocean view in town. The night ended under a near-full moon, soft music, and the kind of propane heaters that make you forget it’s November.
After the festivities, we retreated to the van, tuned into the UCF Knights game on the laptop, and called it a night. The temperature was a perfect 70°, the MaxAir fans purred, and sleep came easy.
Boondocking note: There was an empty lot next to the hotel. They had installed a driveway with a small parking area deep into the lot and away from the street. It was a dark area without street lights, and no parking signs. We were on private property and not a public street. It would probably take the property owner to complain to have us removed. But we quietly spent the night, left no trace, no harm, no foul.
Saturday Morning:
We woke to coffee at the new Ragga Surf Cafe, reborn from its old Marineland location. Still the same chill vibe, with fall décor, marina views, and upgraded bathrooms (a win for civilization). Breakfast was fantastic, and for future reference: parking is $2/hour or $20/day — and possibly overnight if you play it cool.
On the way home, we detoured through downtown St. Augustine, over the Bridge of Lions, and past the black-and-white lighthouse. The Saturday Farmers Market at the Amphitheater was bustling. Parking the van took teamwork, and we later discovered that the Elks Lodge lot next door was the secret RV haven. Noted for next time.
Final Thoughts:
St. Augustine remains our favorite “one-bladder drive” — just long enough for a road trip, not long enough to regret the coffee. Even if the Nights of Lights and Nights of Pints aren’t in the cards this year, we’ll be back soon — maybe camping right at Ragga Surf.
